Handmade
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: Fred attempts a new skill in order to surprise his mother.


_For Love in Motion (family, Molly &Fred)_

 _Word Count: 710_

* * *

"You know, it's a lot slower if you do it by hand."

Molly glances up, a small smile on her lips. She draws a bit more crimson thread, carefully manipulating it with her needles. "Magic takes the fun out of things sometimes," she says gently. "There are days when it's much more calming to sit and keep your hands busy."

Fred sits next to her, watching as she makes her way through another row on the first of many Christmas jumpers. "Could you teach me?" he asks.

Molly sets the knitting needles down, brows raised. Fred so rarely joins her for any one on one interaction. Perhaps she should just accept that her son wants to spend time with her and move on. However, she's spent eighteen years raising the boy, and she's all too familiar with all the mischief he can cause. "Why do you want to learn?"

He smiles sweetly, confirming her worst fears. "No reason."

After a moment, she sighs. "If you try to add vulgar words to any-"

"I won't," he assures her quickly, offering her a salute. "On my honor. Or, well, what's left of it."

With a smile, Molly fishes out a spare set of needles and a ball of yarn. "I'll teach you the basics, then we'll move on to how to read a pattern."

…

"What's up, Mum?" George asks when Molly arrives at their shop.

"You haven't seen my pink yarn, have you?" she asks. "Sorry to bother you at work. I just-"

"Pink yarn?" Fred echoes, appearing next to his twin. "Nope. Think I'd remember seeing pink yarn around."

His words are just a bit too rushed. Molly has learned to read guilt in each of her children, a helpful talent in sticky situations. Fred's tell has always been a sudden speed when he talks.

Still, it hardly seems worth mentioning. It's only yarn, and there's no need for even a small confrontation. "I was going to work on a little hat for Crookshanks," she says. "I suppose I'll have to find another color then."

…

"Merry Christmas, Mum!" Fred calls as he nudges past George to be the first in.

"Mum, your favorite twin is being shoved around," George complains.

"Second favorite!" Fred teases, holding up a small, lumpy gift. "Do I smell hot cocoa?"

Chuckling to herself, Molly waves her wand. Mugs fly from their shelves; moments later, they're filled with sweet, steaming hot cocoa. With a quick murmur of thanks, George grabs a mug before hurrying out of the kitchen.

"Are you going to open it?" Fred asks eagerly.

"You know we open them together. It's tradition," Molly reminds him.

"I bought you something for that. Open this one. It's more special."

Molly purses her lips. She hates breaking family traditions. It's how they've done things for over twenty years now. But Fred's smile is so sweet, she gives in.

"Don't tell your siblings," she says. "Otherwise they'll start wanting to do presents earlier."

With a wink, her son makes a gesture as though he's zipped his lips. Molly suppresses a chuckle and carefully tears the wrapping paper. The first thing she notices is the incredibly familiar shade of bubblegum pink yarn. "Well, that solves the mystery of where my yarn went," she says, tearing the paper further.

"I didn't know where to buy yarn," Fred admits. "Had to make due."

Molly pulls away the last of the paper and lifts a small, knitted pink square. The edges are lopsided, and the stitches are uneven, but Molly doesn't think she's ever seen anything more beautiful. "You made this?"

"It was supposed to be a blanket," Fred explains sheepishly. "I, uh… I can't read a pattern that well, apparently, so it became a potholder."

Molly pulls her son into her arms, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "It's perfect," she tells him.

"Maybe I'll be able to knit you a jumper next year," he suggests.

A warm smile on her lips, she releases him from the hug and ruffles his hair fondly. "It will take a lot of practice. You sure you aren't too old to spend so much time with your mother?"

His eyes twinkle as he shakes his head. "I'll never be too old for that."


End file.
